


No Time At All

by Threshie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel is a Sweetheart, Comatose Sam, Cover Art, Crying Dean, Dean Prays, Destiel - Freeform, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Nurse Castiel, POV Sam Winchester, POV Sam Winchester on Castiel/Dean Winchester, Podfic Welcome, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie/pseuds/Threshie
Summary: Sam is in a coma. An experimental drug lets him wake up for a few hours at a time, though, and be able to visit with his brother. Dean is helpless to change Sam's situation, so Sam decides to try to change Dean's.





	No Time At All

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean’s talking to me. Everything’s a blur — I was just driving, and Dean was not in the car with me, but I hear him. There’s this indescribable weight pressing on my chest, like I couldn’t move if I tried. I’m not in any pain, though. Wait, why do I think I should be?

“C’mon, Sammy… C’mon, I’m right here.” Dean sounds kind of choked. I force my eyes open, and the room’s way too bright at first. Blurry, too. There’s a warm hand on my face, though, touching lightly like I might break.

“Dean?” I ask, and my throat’s so dry the name scrapes its way out. Dean comes into focus, and I stare. He looks like a mess — bedhead hair, at least a week’s worth of stubble, and wrinkly clothes he obviously slept in. There are bags under his eyes, but his whole face lights up with a smile when he meets my gaze.

“Hey, there he is,” he says. I wasn’t mistaken — his voice is husky like he’s trying not to cry. I can feel my brows pinching already in confusion. How can Dean look like this when I just saw him yesterday and he looked normal?

That’s when I notice the steady beeping in the background, and the distant clunking of doors and rolling of metal carts. I recognize it the second before I look down at myself and see the blanket and bed and all of the IV tubes and wires.

“We’re in the hospital,” I say, as if this wasn’t obvious. “What, uh…what happened?”

Dean scoots his chair closer to my bedside, and he has that anxious look like I’m hurt. I guess I am. Still not in any pain, though.

“You were in an accident,” he says finally, eyes flicking to my forehead and back to my face. He forces a smile, but I can tell it’s serious.

“H-how long was I out?” I ask, coughing again slightly. “Water?”

“Right! Here, here you go.” Dean has a cup of water already on a tray nearby. There’s a few empty ones on the counter next to that. And that’s when I start to get uneasy.

“Dean,” I press him, sipping at the water. “How long?”

A shadow practically falls over his face.

“They said you were awake when they brought you in, but by the time I got here you were unconscious. It's been three weeks.”

“Three — that’s impossible!” I sputter and nearly drop the water. “That long, I wouldn’t wake back up.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, his voice cracking. “You wouldn’t.”

“I-I’m awake now, though,” I say, trying to look on the bright side. “I can talk, can’t be too brain damaged — right? I’m okay.”

My brother just looks at me, though, and then down at the floor. He swallows so hard I see his throat bob.

“I’m not okay,” I amend, blinking and looking down at myself again. My body looks okay. One leg’s in a cast, but it could be a lot worse. I can wiggle my fingers and toes. “Dean. Please talk to me.”

I hear him shift on his chair, and when I look back he’s doing the “smile and be tough for Sammy” routine again, leaning forward to grab one of my hands. That scares me, somehow. I stare at him.

“It was bad,” he says, squeezing my hand. The smile’s fading already. “I-it was really bad, Sam. The accident…” A pause while he sucks in a shaky breath, tears shining in his eyes. I want to say something, but I’m speechless. Just how bad was it? “Serious head injury,” Dean manages finally, nodding a little like he’s encouraging himself to keep talking. “You wouldn’t wake up. You still won’t wake up.”

“Dean,” I say uneasily, “I’m awake right now.” Aren’t I…?

Much to my relief, he nods a little to confirm it.

“Y-yeah, they, uh. They’ve got this experimental treatment,” he says. “Wakes coma patients up for an hour or two. It’s temporary.” My heart sinks.

“Temporary,” I repeat, around the big lump forming in my throat. “I-I’m still in a coma?”

My brother holds my hand, and I can see it in his eyes — it’s true. It’s true, and knowing Dean if there was any possible way to switch places with me, he’d be doing it.

“Thought…you’d want to know,” he whispers. “They say you can take the drug more than once. I-I’ll come visit you every day, Sammy. Every single day.”

I stare up at the ceiling, blinking as it blurs with tears. I’m not going home, that’s what he’s saying. I’m in here indefinitely. In my head, I was driving home from the law office half an hour ago. I had a case to research on Monday, and I was sneaking a few files home to read on the side. I had a date lined up for Wednesday, Jess from the coffee shop with the great smile. I had…

I had a future. And now it's all gone.

* * *

  
“Sam!” I open my eyes and my brother’s there by my bed. I swear he just told me about this coma situation like ten minutes ago, but Dean looks different — better, like he’s combed his hair and shaved, at least. Different clothes, too. I manage a smile, but it’s so disorienting. It feels like I just closed my eyes and opened them again. I still feel heavy, I assess. There’s still hospital equipment beeping. The lighting is different, like the sun’s going down or something, though.

“Hey Dean,” I say, smiling in return. I’m glad he looks like he’s been taking better care of himself. There are still bags under his eyes, but personal hygiene and clean clothes are a start, at least. “Was just talking to you,” I add, hoping he’ll understand how weird this is for me.

A pang of something flashes through Dean’s eyes at my words, but he keeps smiling for me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight.

“It’s been a month, Sammy.” Whatever reaction my face makes to that, he looks pained at it. “I’m sorry, I know I promised to visit every day, but they said you can’t have this drug too often. Gotta space it out. Hey, no more itchy cast, though.”

I glance down at my legs and realize he’s right — the injured one is bandaged and a bit swollen, and the bit of my toes I can see are bruised purple and yellow, but the cast is gone. That’s so weird, I swear I was wearing it ten minutes ago. I was just getting used to even having it on, and now it’s gone again.

“Feels like no time at all,” I promise, smiling at Dean. It feels like I just got done coming to terms with this, so I’m pretty solid right now. It’s probably tougher for Dean. “So, uh. How’re you doing?”

I briefly wonder what happened to my practice. You can’t run a law office without the lawyer; it has to be shut down. I hope Dean didn’t have to pay the fee for ending my lease so early. On that note, who’s paying my hospital bills?

“I’m fine.”

None of that seems to matter to Dean right now. He’s teary-eyed again, like we didn’t just go through this same routine ten minutes ago. Except I guess it was really four weeks ago, and he hasn’t gone this long without talking to me in our entire lives. His life, I correct myself. My life is basically over, isn’t it?

And Dean is far from fine.

I’m about to call him out on his denial when there’s a knock. I can’t see the door — it sounds like it’s up and behind the head of my bed, back over my left shoulder.

Dean clears his throat, trying to swallow down his tears, and calls gruffly, “Come in!”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Winchester.” It’s a male voice — sounds kind of gravelly, but somehow gentle at the same time. Is that my doctor? “Visiting hours are over in ten minutes.”

Dean jumps out of his chair, releasing my hand, and heads over to the door — and out of my line of sight.

“Please — I know, I’m way late, but my brother’s only awake once every month or two!” He talking in practically a whisper, but I can still hear him, and it hurts. My god, as bad as this is for me, it’s a thousand times worse for Dean. At least every time I wake up, he’s right there. For him it’s weeks with me just gone from his life, and there’s no hope it’s ever gonna get better than this.

“I-I haven’t gotten to see him in a month.” Dean’s sounding choked again. I guess it’s only “again” for me, it’s been a month for him. “And if you kick me out, he’ll still be awake for hours, and he’ll be alone! It’s not his fault they let me visit so late and still gave him the damn drug…”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the other voice sighs, and I realize if he has to go reason with the doctor, he’s not the doctor himself. Probably a nurse.

The door opens and closes again, and Dean comes back over and sits with me. It’s me who reaches for his hand this time, and when he offers it I squeeze it tightly. There are tears running down his face.

“S-sorry, Sammy. I’m sorry. You’re only awake for a bit. W-wish I could fix this for you…so damn much,” he sniffles. Now I feel like crying, too. It’s like I died, only I didn’t, so he doesn’t even get that kind of closure.

“Hey,” I say, smiling for him. “I’m still here, Dean. I’m right here. What should we do, huh? Could watch the game, or read a book, or…?”

He blinks and his lips twitch into a ghost of a smile.

“Th-they’ve got cable. Seahawks are on.” His voice is thin and watery, but he gets it. Dean’s really good at burying his feelings. I don’t want him to bottle this up, though — or kick himself about it. He’s always considered himself my protector, and this’s the first time something’s happened that he’s helpless to change…so now it’s my turn to do something for him.

I don’t want him to spend every visit in here crying. This isn’t his fault. If I can’t get out of bed or stay conscious without drugs, the least I can do is make our visits good ones.

* * *

  
I guess I dozed off at some point during the game, because I’m blinking awake. The TV’s off now, though.

“Good morning, Sam.” The gravelly voice is familiar, but I’m startled — it was just me and Dean in the room a minute ago.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay Sammy. He’s the nurse, it’s okay.” By the time I turn my head, Dean’s patting my shoulder and reassuring me. He’s in totally different clothes now — no jacket this time. Flannel shirt, black T-shirt and jeans. There’s a handsome man in tan scrubs standing beside him, blue eyes watching me with sympathy. He’s got black hair and a name tag that says “Castiel.” My nurse, apparently.

“Sorry,” I tell Dean awkwardly, glancing between him and Castiel. What a weird name for a guy. “Uh, for me we were just watching the game, and I closed my eyes for like, a minute,” I explain sheepishly, smiling at them.

There’s that pained look in my brother’s eyes again, but he’s smiling along with me while I try to make light of the situation. I’m glad — it’s so ridiculous it IS kind of funny. I’m like a time traveler.

Castiel moves over near my bedside and pulls out a little penlight.

“Sam, my name is Castiel. I’m a nurse here,” he says solemnly, blue eyes studying my face. “How are you feeling?”

I want to shrug, but my shoulders aren’t cooperating. I manage to raise them a little.

“Pretty good, considering,” I tell him honestly. “I-I feel kind of heavy, but I did the last few times, too.”

“That’s okay.” Castiel has this slight, almost shy smile. I like it. It’s genuine. “I just need to examine you a bit and then you can visit with your brother, okay?”

I blink, glancing at Dean.

“Sure.”

The nurse seems like an okay guy, and I’m relaxed as he gently turns my head from side to side, examining my eyes with the light one at a time.

“He seems to be okay, Cas.” Dean, I note with interest, calls the nurse by a nickname. He’s also protesting the examination.

“Hey, uh, Cas,” I realize aloud, “You weren’t here the last couple times — why do I need an exam now?” I’ve apparently been laying in here for months now, somebody could’ve examined me any time…

Castiel trades a glance with Dean, and neither of them look very happy.

“Guys, just tell me,” I say, frowning. “I barely know what’s going on with me already.”

Dean sighs and runs a hand over his hair.

“This time’s different because you took too long to wake up.”

I blink and glance up at Castiel to confirm it. The nurse nods, looking apologetic now.

“It’s true, and it took a larger dose to work this time. You seem perfectly okay now, though. I’m sorry to cut in on any of your waking time — you can visit with Dean now.” He steps away from the bed, but not before I shoot him a grateful smile.

Dean’s pulling a little wrapped present out of his pocket. It’s been a few months — I guess it’s my birthday already.

* * *

  
I go from my birthday and watching this ridiculous reality show about hot rod cars with Dean to…murmurs. Whispers. Dean’s voice, and I’m stunned to realize that they’re prayers. Opening my eyes, I glance over to find my brother — a lifelong atheist — at my bedside with his hands clasped and eyes closed.

“Dean?” I can’t help it, I’m almost laughing. The idea of Dean praying SOUNDS like a joke. His eyes fly open, and I can only describe the look on his face as “flustered.”

“Sammy, you’re awake! How’re you doing?” He covers it up with a smile, and he’s so glad to see me that I have to keep my teasing light-hearted.

“Putting in a good word for me in Heaven? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Dean fidgets, glancing quickly at the door. He turns back to me with an awkward smile.

“Yeah, um…Cas invited me to come to his church with him a couple times.” He shrugs and tries to make light of it, but my gaydar’s going off right about now. My brother’s bisexual, and Mr. Blue-eyed Nurse Castiel is a handsome guy. Plus it’d take more than me being in a coma to make Dean go to church, I’m sure of it. Dean’s good at a lot of things, but healthy coping isn’t one of them.

“Okay,” I say, and let it go. When he wants to tell me, he’ll tell me.

* * *

  
“Hey, Sammy.” This is such a weird way to exist. It’s like I never sleep anymore — I blink and I’m waking up again. I’m pretty sure it’s getting harder for me to wake up each time, too. Dean didn’t explain why he was praying last time, but the next time Castiel was there to examine me again, and this time they’re both here.

I blink, realizing they’re in nice suits and ties. DEAN is in a suit and tie. Squinting in confusion, I open my mouth to ask, but he beats me to it.

“Church,” he supplies, looking a little sheepish, but shooting Castiel a smile. The nurse must be visiting on his day off — he looks even better in his black suit and navy tie. I smile at them both.

“Thought maybe I-I slept through the wedding,” I joke. They both flush, and it’s confirmed — Dean and Handsome Nurse Castiel are an item.

“Sam,” Dean begins, taking a deep breath. I hold up a hand — or try to. My hand twitches, and in the back of my mind I’m alarmed my body’s that weak. There’s more important things right now, though.

“Hey,” I interrupt my brother, smiling at him. “I’m happy for you guys.” I don’t know Cas, but he seems like a decent guy. Anybody who could get Dean into a suit and a tie and a CHURCH has to be somebody special.

Dean smiles back, slipping his hand into his boyfriend’s. Castiel kisses his cheek tenderly, and I immediately like him more. Yeah, this is perfect. Somebody’s got to keep Dean from self-destructing now that I’m mostly out of the picture.

* * *

  
Time’s passing. It feels like I’m dozing off and waking up, over and over, and Dean’s just visiting me all the time. But time’s going by, and it’s moving faster than a month per visit. Dean looked guilty last time; I think he noticed that I noticed he was in summer clothes when he was wearing a winter jacket the visit before. I didn’t mention it, and neither did he.

This time he’s wearing a jacket again, and a scarf. Is it Fall? Cas is with him, wearing a long tan trench coat and scarf over a sweater and slacks. The guy looks handsome in anything, I guess. Their hair is ruffled up, like it’s windy out. Dean’s holding my hand when I first open my eyes, and I smile at him and squeeze his hand back as well as I can.

My fingers are weak. I’m weak. Dean’s got so much love in his eyes, but I can tell it hurts him to see me like this. How long has it been?

I still don’t mention it. Doesn’t really matter.

“Hi Dean,” I greet him, smiling. “Hey, Castiel. You guys sure look windblown.”

“We walked here,” Cas offers, stepping closer to my bed. He smiles and pats my hand, which Dean is still clinging to. “I can go, if you want to visit with Dean alone.”

“Oh…” I blink, realizing that his hand is shaking. “No, no, it’s okay.”

Cas pulls up a second chair, and they sit around talking and joking with me.

“I’m gonna have to smuggle some clippers in here soon, Rapunzel,” Dean teases me, lifting a lock of my hair. I chuckle and tell him he’s not getting near me with anything sharp. He’s right, though, my hair has gotten pretty long — if I could sit up, it would be hitting my shoulders. Suddenly I’m really grateful somebody has been shaving my beard while I’m comatose.

Cas smiles at us, but he’s fidgeting a little. His hands, the brief moments when they’re not shoved into the pockets of his trench coat, are still shaky. I hope I find out what’s wrong before I fall asleep again.

“Be right back — Cas’ll keep you company,” Dean tells me, heading out into the hall to visit the restroom.

The moment the door closes, I stare Castiel down.

“We only have a minute, so listen up.” If I thought he was antsy before, the serious tone’s really setting it off — he sits up at attention like a soldier, shoulders rigid suddenly.

“What is it?” He sounds uneasy now, too. I don’t want to scare the guy, but…okay, yes I do.

“Are you serious about my brother?” I don’t have the time to waste by being indirect. Castiel’s blue eyes widen, though, and he leans forward on his chair.

“Of course! Sam, I would never hurt him,” he promises, like it upsets him to even think about it. Well, good.

I can’t help it, though — I soften up my tone. The poor guy’s practically shaking.

“Do you love him?”

He’s fidgeting again, hands shoved into his coat pockets. When he draws out the little black velvet box, though, I feel my heart become a little lighter.

Looking down at the ring, he says sincerely, “I do, Sam.”

Turns out he’s so nervous because today’s the day — he’s planning to pop the question. I like Castiel. I’m stuck in bed and unconscious most of my life, and this guy turns to ME for advice. I give him my blessing, because he acts like that’s really important to him, and some pointers on how to wow Dean.

My brother plays tough, but he’s a sucker for romantic gestures. I recommend a pretty place out by the lake — just down the street from where my office used to be. I tell him to skip the roses — Dean doesn’t need anything flashy. Pretty sure Mr. Blue-eyed Nurse is just going to get down on one knee and totally forget how to speak, judging by how nervous he is. Dean will get the idea, though.

“Hey, what’d I miss?” Dean returns finally, explaining that somebody in the bathroom needed a nurse and he had to call one for them.

“Cas was telling me how boring you are when I’m not around,” I tease.

“Wow, okay. Bitch,” Dean snorts, sitting by my bed again.

“Jerk,” I toss back, unable to help grinning at him. Cas just does his best not to look nervous.

We have a nice chat and say goodbye like I’ll blink and the next visit will begin. I know it won’t this time, though. Maybe the drug will stop working. Maybe my body will get tired of hanging in there. I’m not sure how, but I know this time when I go to sleep, I’ll stay asleep. That’s okay, though. I know Dean’s gonna be okay, so I will be, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my fic! This story is inspired by news articles about Ambien and other sleep drugs helping some comatose or near-comatose patients wake up for a few hours, visit with their loved ones, and then fall back asleep. In this alternate universe, Sam and Dean are the only family the other has. Writing the outline made me want to cry, and writing the actual fic got my choked up all over again. Did it get to you, too? Comments and kudos always appreciated!


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